Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/96

84 And taught me first the simple prayer, "To thee,
 * Poor banished sons of Eve, we send our cries."

Through mist of years, those words recall to me
 * A childish face upturned to loving eyes.

And yet to some the name of Mary bears
 * No special meaning and no gracious power;

In that dear word they seek for hidden snares,
 * As wasps find poison in the sweetest flower.

But faithful hearts can see, o'er doubts and fears,
 * The Virgin link that binds the Lord to earth;

Which to the upturned trusting face appears
 * A more than angel, though of human birth.

The sweet-faced moon reflects on cheerless night
 * The rays of hidden sun to rise to-morrow;

So unseen God still lets His promised light,
 * Through holy Mary, shine upon our sorrow.